


Of Greeks and Poetry

by Mimm



Category: The Shape of Water (2017)
Genre: Cats, M/M, Pre-Slash, mentions of Elisa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16356368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimm/pseuds/Mimm
Summary: Notes: Takes place a couple years after the end of the movie. Giles has one too many cats and he's pretty sure it's not one of his. But whose is it?





	Of Greeks and Poetry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kurage_hime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurage_hime/gifts).



> I picked a couple of your prompts and ran with them, or rather they ran and I tried to follow. I hope you like the end result. :)

Giles did not, contrary to what Elisa had once suggested with a glint of amusement in her eyes, have too many cats. As he had carefully explained it, he had enough of them, but never too many. Although sometimes he had the feeling they multiplied on their own and grew up overnight, skipping kittenhood altogether, and the thought was a little stressful.

On this latest count, he got up to fourteen. He suspected he may have counted some of them twice, as snuggled up as some of them were, but the number sounded right. He called them by their names, one by one, but apart from a few twitches of ears most of them didn't seem to care enough to let him know they'd heard him.

As usual, Hephaestion perked up at the mention of her name and, since it seemed to be convenient for her, came over and gave him a gentle push on the shin. He gave her a piece of his pastry he had bought on his way home, and she quickly chewed it up with a low purr.

So much like Pandora's purr, Giles thought, and brief sadness washed over him, but then Hephaestion demanded more of his pastry and he was powerless to resist. Aeneas saw what was happening and got envious, and as if by a miracle of feline telepathy, a steady pool of cats started forming around his feet. Sighing to himself, he tried to make his way towards the food bowls without stepping on a single paw or tail.

*

Sixteen. Giles had to count them again, but again he reached sixteen, and he knew he had only taken in one more cat, not two. A red and white one that was kneading the quilt on his couch. She didn't have a name yet because Giles didn't know who she looked like yet.

Next to her, flopped on its right side, there was a sleeping brown tabby, and no matter how hard Giles tried he couldn't remember that one's name.

"And who are you?" he asked as he approached the cat quietly, looking down at it. Its ears twitched at Giles' voice and steps, then it yawned and looked up at him. Such a nonchalant face on that one, Giles thought and sat down next to it. It didn't bother moving aside. He reached out for the cat's nose, prepared for claws. Instead, the cat licked the back of his hand, scratching the skin with its coarse tongue.

Giles looked around to see if any of the windows were open, but they were all tightly shut. He got up to examine the rest of the apartment, but all the doors and windows were closed. For a moment he wondered if he was finally going senile. It was an unpleasant thought but not an entirely new one.

When he returned to the mysterious cat, it was cleaning itself up. Or, rather, _he_ was, Giles made note.

"I guess you can stay here for the night," he said to the cat, "but tomorrow I have to at least try finding your home."

The cat stopped his cleaning and looked up at him, looking perfectly at home on the couch.

If Giles couldn't find the owner, maybe he could keep him, he thought to himself. After all, how much difference could one more cat make in a household that already had fifteen of them?

*

There was a gentle knock on the door, but Giles didn't want to tear his eyes off Simon Templar on his television set. He wasn't expecting visitors at this time and he didn't feel like talking to any of his neighbours. The knocks continued, and by the time the third set ended he gave up. Aeneas had been resting his head on his thigh but Giles had to push him aside. Offended by this outrageous behaviour, Aeneas hopped on the floor and made a beeline for the bedroom.

Behind the door stood Giles' landlord, Mr. Arzoumanian.

"It wasn't my fault," he said without so much as a greeting, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. "You have too many cats. You two sort it out."

And before Giles could say either good evening or good night to him, he was gone.

A man, no, a Greek god or a lovingly carved statue, stood in front of him. Ashy brown hair a little too curly and unruly to be called neat, a pair of grey eyes under straight brows, and a jawline Giles would have paid money to have. Maybe in his mid-thirties or early forties. He had his coat on, light brown, but it was unbuttoned and showed his brown suit. In his left hand he held a suitcase. No ring.

The man raised his hand behind his neck in an embarrassed gesture before he offered it to Giles.

"Hello," he said. "I'm David. David Johnson."

_David. Of course you are._

There was an awkward pause as Giles wondered what this man was doing here, in his doorstep, at this hour.

"I'm your new neighbour," the man continued as if hearing his thoughts, and finally Giles took his hand. It was warm, the grip firm.

"Welcome to the building," Giles said, then looked at his feet and remembered he was still standing by an open door with an apartment full of cats behind him. "Please, come in."

His heart was pounding a little. It had been a while since he had invited anyone in. His last visitor had been Zelda but that had been two weeks ago and she was his friend. None of his guests had ever been young handsome strangers.

Whether it was because of the chatter or general curiosity, Hephaestion had decided to join them and was looking up at them.

"Aren't you a pretty one?" David said, setting his suitcase on the floor next to him and lowering down on his knee to let her smell his hand before giving her a scratch behind her ear.

"Hephaestion's a little greedy," Giles says. "She thinks everyone must have treats for her."

"She?"

"Yes. She seems to be fine with her unfortunate misnaming."

"Well, she gets food and love and the occasional treat," David said, stroking her back and making her purr louder. "You can probably call her whatever you want."

"I suppose," Giles says, looking down at David. He really wanted to touch those curls.

David looked up at him with a smile. _Don't,_ Giles thought in mild desperation. He didn't want his new neighbour to get an entirely wrong picture of him. He didn't want to cause any trouble.

"I'm not here just to introduce myself," David said as he stood up.

"I figured," Giles said, remembering Mr. Arzoumanian's words.

"I think you might have my Tennyson," David said, leaning a little to the side to look behind Giles, his eyes scanning the apartment.

It took a moment before Giles connected the dots. The mystery cat.

"His name is Tennyson?" he asked, and clearly recognizing his name the brown tabby hopped down off the chair he had been sleeping in and approached them with slow but determined steps, making Hephaestion run off.

"There you are," David said, making a delighted face at the runaway and picking him up, kissing his belly before letting him rest against his shoulder. "Yeah, I made the mistake of leaving a collection of Tennyson's poems on my nightstand and on his first day in his new home this little guy decided it was the perfect scratching post."

Giles let out a chuckle. Some of his sketches had gone out the same way.

"But how did he end up here?" Giles asked, having an idea of what might have happened but hoping he could keep this beautiful man with him a little while longer.

David told him in detail how he had come back from work only a few moments ago and his door had been ajar. Obviously his first thought had been that he'd been robbed, but the place had looked intact and nothing seemed to be missing, except for his cat that was nowhere to be found. He had rushed to Mr. Arzoumanian who had told him he'd let a cat in, but it turned out that he had mistaken which apartment the cat really belonged to. Soon after that, they had stood behind Giles' door, knocking on it.

Somewhere behind them, Simon Templar was speaking, and Giles noticed David's eyes going to it as he was idly petting Tennyson's side with his thumb.

"Are you in a hurry?" he asked, feeling his pulse rise a little. "It only just started a while ago. I could make us something to eat."

Giles prepared himself for the usual reaction: an awkward silence, an expression of discomfort, hesitation, and any of the most common polite excuses. He had heard and seen them all. He had used most of them himself whenever a nice older lady had asked him to join her for a cup of coffee while he was minding his own business.

But David surprised him.

"I'd like that," he said, lowering Tennyson down until he hopped on the floor. He took off his coat and put it on the hook next to Giles'.

As Tennyson walked off and joined Aeneas on the floor in front of the television set, David looked around the room while Giles disappeared into the kitchen.

David asked about the woman in the drawings, and Giles told him about Elisa. They had often talked about Elisa with Zelda, wondering how her life was, but David had never known her, so it was nice to be able to describe his dear friend in all her wonderful detail. For a short moment it felt like she was there with them. And, Giles thought to himself, she would probably approve of David.

"Can I help?" David asked as Giles was piling up the sandwiches on one of the plates with at least three cats swarming at his feet hoping he would accidentally drop something. Without asking for a response, David walked into the kitchen and took the plate off his hands, his fingers brushing Giles'.

"Looks good," he said with an approving nod and a smile, taking the plate with him to the couch. Giles picked up the two cups of freshly brewed tea and followed him, smiling to himself.

It certainly did.


End file.
